Chapter hub: https://theowlhouse.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000000195081
“Hunter… Hunter… Won’t you help out your poor Uncle?” A voice clearly said, “Please, Hunter, help me… help your dear, helpless Uncle…”
No one around Hunter seemed to react to the all-too-familiar voice calling for him. Luz and Amity kept embracing each other on the couch. Willow kept snuggling next to him. Gus and Hermione continued comparing each other’s realms. Harry and Ron continued to play exploding snap at a nearby table.
“Guys?” Hunter asked, “Did you hear that?”
All of his friends gave him the same confused look.
“Hear what?” Luz asked.
“I didn’t hear anything,” Gus admitted.
“Hunter, are you okay?” Willow asked. Hunter’s hands were starting to shake. That voice, it couldn’t be…
“What did you hear, Hunter?” Amity asked.
“Bel-” Hunter’s voice stopped, the word got caught in his throat. Nothing came out.
“B-” Hunter tried again, to similar failure.
“Belos?” Luz filled in.
“Y-yes,” Hunter choked.
Willow held his hands softly, reminding him that his friends, and girlfriend, were still there and that they cared about him.
Harry looked at Hunter as though he knew exactly what he was going through.
“Hunter, I have an unfortunate amount of experience when it comes to hearing voices no one else can,” Harry consoled, “Do you want to talk to me about it?”
Hunter nodded, and Harry got over to him and sat next to him.
“What did he say? Do you think it was directed at you, or was it just a general thing?” Harry asked.
“He, he asked me for help. Specifically,” Hunter got out,
“Well, remember,” Harry said, “We’re all here for you. Even if he comes back, you’re safe.”
“Yeah, I-I know,” Hunter said.
Harry stayed right there for Hunter, even though neither of them said a single thing. Slowly, the afternoon drew into the evening, which then drew into the night.
“Harry, you need to come back to Hogwarts with Ron and I,” Hermione nagged, “Curfew is soon, and Filch’ll have our heads if we’re late.”
Harry sighed, then got up, and joined his human companions.
“Hunter,” said Harry, “If you ever need someone to talk to about voices in your head, just remember that I get them too, I can relate. You know where to find me.”
And with that, the three British Humans returned to the castle for the night.
Soon, Willow, Amity, and Gus all had to go back home before their fathers got worried. Vee and Luz departed for their room, leaving just King and Hunter in the living room.
“Hey, you still seem kinda shook,” King noted, “Is this still about the voice?”
“That’s-!” Hunter started, his voice much too loud, so he quieted himself, “None of your business.”
“So it’s a yes!” King teased.
“I should’ve dropped you in the Boiling Sea when I had the chance,” Hunter joked.
“If you’d done that, neither of us would be here, Eda would’ve killed you immediately,” King stated.
That was a fair point.
“I’m…” Hunter said softly, “I’m going to bed,” He got up and went upstairs to his room. Hunter couldn’t begin to verbalize just how grateful he was to Eda for letting him stay with her for as long as he needed. It had started as a temporary thing, but after eighteen months, Hunter was starting to think it might just last until he finally got a home with just him and Willow, but that was still a long way away.
Of course, he couldn’t sleep. The horrible, manipulative voice that had pretended to care for Hunter was the only thing on his mind.
Deciding that he had had enough insomnia for now, he got up and grabbed Waffle.
“Hey buddy,” He whispered to the blue jay, “I just need to see something, just to be safe,”
Waffle, reading his mind, went into staff form. Hunter opened the window in his room, no sense in trying the front door, Hooty would wake the entire house, literally.
He slowly climbed out of his window and glanced at the stars above. One constellation, Gemini, the twins, was shining brightly. He stepped one leg over the staff and kicked off from the roof. The thrill of the chilly May air in his hair was impossible to match, but Hunter couldn’t focus on that, the only thing his mind could focus on was that haunting voice, begging for his help.
He eventually landed at the bridge connecting the castle to the land surrounding it. Hunter took one step onto the bridge and it collapsed, nearly taking him with it!
The rusted metal clearly was not suitable for use anymore. Hunter watched as the steel, once pristine and shiny, now rusted away and collapsed from just him placing a single foot on it.
Re-mounting Waffle, Hunter flew to the other side of the bridge, where the reinforced concrete was much less likely to be unstable after less than two years.
Hunter carefully made his way to the throne room, there was a specific, hidden room that he wanted to check. Faded graffiti and the occasional small animal lined his vision as Hinter took the familiar path from the front gates to the throne room.
Finally reaching the throne room, Hunter made his way to the secret door, which was hidden from prying eyes. It was the one room in the entire castle that Belos had directly told Hunter not to enter, and Hunter was about to enter it.
The first thing he noticed about the forbidden room was the smell, a pungent odor of rot and decay oozed from the room. Hunter had to cover his nose to even barely tolerate the chamber.
The next thing he noticed was that it had several pools of a red liquid, half of which had bones covered in green, rotting flesh sticking out of them. Hunter thought he was going to be sick from seeing, and smelling, that.
Before he could fully process the rest of the hidden laboratory, he saw an arm twitch in one of the pools. Curious, Hunter came closer to that one.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” A voice behind him said. It was eerily familiar, eerily similar to his own.
Hunter turned around and nearly fell back in shock. It was like looking in a strange mirror. It was his face staring back at him, a hundred times over. The same magenta eyes, the same blond hair with the one hair noodle in front that Belos forced Hunter to have.
“Who-?” Hunter started, before being interrupted by one of the ghosts.
“I am Caleb Wittebane,” The ghost in front introduced, “And those you see behind me are the former Grimwalkers.”
Hunter was shocked, to say the least, but the ghost kept talking.
“Whenever one of us finally realized the depravity of Philip’s ideals, we rebelled. Every single Grimwalker eventually rebelled against him. But you, Hunter, you are the only one to have survived.”
“By Philip, do you mean-?” Hunter began to ask, before being interrupted again. Seriously? I’m a clone of someone with these manners? Hunter thought.
“Yes, you call him Belos,” Caleb explained, “He has gone by many names in his centuries of life. He needed some way to make inconspicuous on how he was emperor for three hundred years. Before he was Belos, he was Oberon, before that, Pupa. And so on.”
“Well, thank you,” Hunter said, “This has given me… some peace of mind. Belos isn’t back… right?”
“Not as far as any of us know,” one of the grimwalkers said, he had a scar much like Hunter’s that went across both of his eyes, which seemed to have been gouged out.
Hunter, not wanting to bear the putrid scent of the Grimwalker room anymore, left to go back to the Owl house before anyone noticed his absence.
When Hunter left and the ghosts dissipated, a distinctive crack could be heard coming from the nearest vat. The arm that was sticking out had gone from fully extended to bent at a forty-five degree angle.
Normally, since it was May, Harry would be spending his time preparing for the last quidditch match of the season. This year, however, it was the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament that Harry needed to prepare for. Unfortunately, he still didn’t know what that would entail. Finally, in the last week of May, Professor McGonagall told him to go to the Quidditch pitch at nine o’clock on the night of the twenty-fourth.
And so, at eight-thirty that night, Harry made his way out of Gryffindor Tower and went downstairs. As he crossed the entrance hall, Cedric came up from the Hufflepuff common room and joined him.
“What d’you reckon it’ll be?” Cedric asked Harry as they went together toward the field, “Fleur keeps going on about underground tunnels, she reckons we’ve got to find treasure.”
“That wouldn’t be too bad,” Harry noted, thinking he could just ask Hagrid if he could borrow a niffler.
They walked through the dark lawn toward the Quidditch pitch, Harry soon saw the portal door open, and Luz walked out of it. He also saw Fleur and Krum coming from their respective directions as well.
“What have they done to the field?” Cedric asked indignantly, stopping dead in his tracks.
The Quidditch pitch was no longer smooth and flat. It looked like someone had been building low, flat, green walls all over it, twisting and criss-crossing in every direction.
“They’re hedges!” Luz noted, examining one of them closely.
“Hello there!” A cheery voice called. Ludo Bagman was standing in the middle of the field. The five champions soon made their way over to him.
“Well, what d’you think?” Bagman asked in a cheery tone as the champions climbed over one last hedge to get to him. “Growing nicely, aren’t they? Give them a month, and Hagrid’ll have them twenty feet high. Don’t worry,” He added, spotting the less-than-happy faces on Harry and Cedric, “You’ll have your Quidditch pitch back to normal once the task is over! Now, I imagine you can guess what we’re making here?”
No one spoke for a moment until Krum finally answered. “Maze,” he grunted.
“Yes!” Bagman exclaimed, “A maze. The third task is really straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the center of the maze. The First champion to touch it will receive full marks, sixty points. Scores will then be distributed based on how far everyone else is from the cup when the winner gets it. The second closest gets fifty points, third gets forty, fourth gets thirty, and fifth gets twenty points. Any questions?”
“We simply ‘ave to get through the maze?” Fleur asked.
“Well, there will be obstacles, of course.” Bagman explained, “Hagrid is providing several creatures, then there will be spells that must be broken, all that sort of stuff. Should be fun, eh?”
Harry, knowing far too well what kind of creatures Hagrid might provide, thought it very unlikely that it would be any fun. However, he nodded politely with the rest of the champions.
“Very well, if you haven’t got any questions, we’ll go back up to the castle, it’s a bit chilly,” Bagman said.
Bagman hurried to join Harry as he walked quickly back to the castle. Just as Harry was getting the feeling that Bagman was about to offer to help him again, Krum tapped on his shoulder.
“Could I haff a word?” Krum asked.
“Sure,” Harry said, a bit surprised.
“Vill you walk with me?”
“Err, okay,” Harry said curiously.
Instead of going toward the Durmstrang ship, Krum led Harry towards the forest, past the Beauxbatons carriage and Hagrid’s hut.
“What’re we going this way for?” Harry asked.
“I don’t vant to be overheard,” Krum said shortly.
He finally stopped when they reached an empty clearing by the forest.
“I vant to know,” He said, glowering, “What is there between you and Hermione?”
Harry, who expected something much more serious than teenaged romance from someone who was as secretive as Krum, stared up in amazement.
“Nothing,” he said. But Krum continued to glower at him, and Harry, somehow struck anew by how tall Krum was, elaborated, “We’re friends. She’s not my girlfriend and she never has been. It’s just that Skeeter woman making things up.”
“Hermione talks about you very often,” Krum said, looking at Harry very suspiciously.
“Yeah, because we’re friends.” Harry spat back.
Harry couldn’t believe that he was having this conversation with Viktor Krum, the famous international Quidditch player. It was as though the eighteen-year-old Krum thought he, Harry, was an equal, a real rival.
“You haff never… You haff not…”
“Nope,” Harry said very firmly.
Krum looked slightly happier, which, considering how unexpressive he was, probably meant that he was ecstatic. “You fly very well. I vos watching you at the first task.”
“Thanks,” Harry said, grinning widely, suddenly feeling a bit taller himself. “I saw you at the World Cup. The Wronski Feint, you really-”
Harry lost his train of thought, he saw something move in the trees behind Krum. Harry, having some experience with what kind of creatures called the forest home, instinctively grabbed Krum’s arm and pulled him around.
“Vot is it?”
Harry shook his head, staring at the place where he’d seen movement. He grabbed his wand from his robes.
A man staggered out from behind a rather tall oak tree. For a moment, Harry didn’t recognize him, then he realized who it was… Barty Crouch.
He looked as though he had been traveling for days. The knees of his robes were ripped and bloody; his was face scratched; he was unshaven and gray with exhaustion. His strange appearance, however, was nothing compared to how he was behaving. Muttering and gesticulating, Mr. Crouch seemed to be talking to someone he alone could see.
“Vosn’t he a judge?” Krum asked, “Isn’t he with your Ministry?”
Harry nodded. With hesitation, he began to walk towards Mr. Crouch, who did not seem to notice him, rather he continued talking to a nearby tree. “...and when you’ve done that, Weatherby, send an owl to Dumbledore confirming the number of Durmstrang students who will be attending the tournament, Karkaroff has just sent word there will be twenty…”
“Mister Crouch?” Harry said cautiously.
“...and then send another owl to Madame Maxime, because she might want to up the students she’s bringing, now that Karkaroff’s mad it a round twenty… do that, Weatherby, will you?” Mr. Crouch’s eyes were bulging. He stood at the tree. Then he staggered sideways and fell to his knees.
“Mister Crouch!” Harry said loudly, “Are you alright?”
Harry knew the answer to that question. Crouch’s eyes were rolling in his head, he was almost limp in Harry’s arms.
“You should probably go get some help,” Harry told Krum.
“Dumbledore!” Crouch gasped. He reached out and seized a handful of Harry’s robes, though his eyes were staring way over Harry’s head. “I need… see… Dumbledore…”
“Okay,” Harry said, “If you get up, we can go get hi-”
“I’ve done… stupid… thing…” Mr. Crouch muttered. He looked like he had gone completely mad, luckily, Harry managed to free himself from Crouch’s grasp.
“You stay here, I’ll go get- Luz?” Harry said, shocked to see the Hexside champion running towards them.
“I heard noise, is everyone okay?” She asked quickly.
“I need to find Dumbledore,” Harry said, “You two stay here with Mister Crouch.”
Harry sprinted as fast as he could towards the castle, which was deserted. Five minutes later, he was hurtling toward where he remembered Dumbledore’s office to be.
“Sher-sherbet lemon!” He said breathlessly.
That was the password to his office, or, at least, it had been two years ago. The password had evidently been changed.
“Move!” Harry shouted fruitlessly at it.
Harry wondered where else Dumbledore could be. Perhaps the staff room? He started running as fast as he could toward the staircase-
“POTTER!!”
Harry skidded to a halt as Snape’s voice snapped at him.
What are you doing here, Potter?”
“I need to see Professor Dumbledore!” Harry yelled, “It’s Mister Crouch, he’s in the forest, he’s talking mad-”
“What on earth are you talking about?” Snape snapped.
“Mister Crouch! From the Ministry! He’s ill or something, he wants to see Dumbledore!” Harry shouted.
“I heard my name?” A wise, old voice said.
“Professor Dumbledore!” Harry said, relieved beyond belief, “It’s Mr. Crouch, he’s in the forest, he wants to speak with you!”
Luckily, Dumbledore didn’t question it, instead asking Harry to lead the way.
“What did Mr. Crouch say?” Dumbledore asked as they swiftly walked down the marble staircase.
“Said he wants to warn you… said he’s done something terrible.” Harry explained, “He’s not acting normally. He doesn’t seem to know where he is. He keeps talking like Percy is there, then he changes and begs to see you. I left him with Viktor Krum and Luz Noceda.”
“You did?” Dumbledore asked sharply, “Do you know if anyone else saw him?”
“No,” Harry said, “Krum and I were talking, Mr. Bagman had just shown us the third task, and we stayed behind, and then we saw Mr. Crouch come from the forest, the Luz came running when she heard Crouch’s panicked yelling.”
“Where are they?” Dumbledore asked as they passed the Beauxbatons carriage.
“Over here,” said Harry, moving to where they had been. He couldn’t hear Crouch’s voice anymore, but he knew where they had been; it hadn’t been much past the Beauxbatons carriage, somewhere around here.”
“Viktor?” Harry shouted, “Luz?”
No response.
“They were here,” Harry said, “They were around here somewhere.”
“Lumos” Dumbledore said, lighting his wand.
Its narrow beam of traveled from trunk to trunk, until it landed on a pair of feet.
Harry and Dumbledore hurried forward. Krum was sprawled on the forest floor, Luz was next to her. They both seemed to be unconscious. There was no sign of Crouch at all. Dumbledore lifted one eyelid of Krum’s.
“Stunned,” He said softly, his half-moon glasses glittered in the wandlight.
“Should I get someone?” Asked Harry, “Madam Pomfrey?”
“No,” Dumbledore said, “Stay here.”
He raised his wand and lifted it in the direction of Hagrid’s cabin. Harry saw something silvery dart out of it and streak away. Dumbledore bent over the two champions and muttered “Renneveate” to them both.
They both opened their eyes but seemed rather dazed.
“He attacked me!” Krum muttered, putting a hand on his head, “The old madman attacked me! I vos looking to see vare Potter had gone and he attacked me from behind!”
“No,” Luz said, “It wasn’t Crouch. I don’t know who it was, but Crouch was lying helplessly on the ground, and a red light seemed to come from over there,” She pointed near the cabin. “Next thing I know, I’m on the ground twenty feet away.”
Hagrid came running, Fang right at his heels.
“Hagrid,” Dumbledore said urgently, “I need you to fetch Professor Karkaroff and Principal Bump, once you’ve done that, I need you to alert Professor Moody-”
“No need, Dumbledore,” said a wheezy growl. “Would’ve been here sooner if it weren’t for my damn leg,”
“I don’t know where Barty Crouch went,” Dumbledore admitted, “But it is essential that we find him,”
“On it,” Moody said, limping away into the forest.
Neither Dumbledore nor Harry spoke again until Hagrid returned with a disgruntled-looking Karkaroff and an annoyed Bump.
“What is this?” Karkaroff cried out upon seeing Krum still on the ground.
“I vos attacked,” Krum said, sitting up and rubbing his head, “Mr. Crouch or votever his name was…”
“It wasn’t Crouch!” Luz reminded, “How could you blame this attack on such a poor, defenseless man?”
“Treachery!” Karkaroff shouted, “This is a plot! You and your Ministry of Magic have lured me under false pretenses. This is not an equal competition! First, you sneak Potter in as a second champion! Now one of your Ministry friends tries to pull my champion out of service! You know what? Here’s what I think of your ‘equal competition’!”
Karkaroff spat at Dumbledore’s feet. In an instant, he was being pinned against a tree, his feet dangling a full meter off the ground.
“Apologize,” Hagrid snarled, “Or else,” Hagrid’s massive fist was right at Karkaroff’s throat.
“Hagrid, no!” Dumbledore shouted.
Hagrid begrudgingly let go of Karkaroff, letting him fall to the ground.
“Kindly escort Harry to the castle, please,” Dumbledore said to Hagrid. “And Harry,” Dumbledore said, turning his attention to the youngest person present, “When you get back to Gryffindor tower, I want you to stay there, any owls you might want to send, anything you want to do, it can wait until morning.”
Hagrid angrily marched with Harry back to the castle. He wasn’t in a good mood and kept complaining about foreigners the entire time, so Harry wasn’t very upset when they had to part ways at the portrait of the Fat Lady. Harry clambered through the portrait hole and into the common room. He hurried for the corner that Ron and Hermione were sitting in, wanting to tell them every detail.
